


Halloween Night in Shining Armor

by darcydent



Series: Bachelor AU [2]
Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Implied/Referenced Underage Drinking, M/M, crude sword innuendo, sexual innuendo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-06
Updated: 2017-10-06
Packaged: 2019-01-09 21:35:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,641
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12284811
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/darcydent/pseuds/darcydent
Summary: A fill for the Huxloween 2017 Day 28 Prompt: Double Saturday: Sexy Costume | Accidentally Wore the Same CostumeBen suggests that he and Armie both go as medieval knights to a costume party. Armie interprets this differently than Ben does, to hilarious results.





	Halloween Night in Shining Armor

**Author's Note:**

> This is set in the same world as my Bachelor AU fic, however no knowledge of that verse is necessary.
> 
> The setting is Fall of 2005 at Boston University. Ben, 19, is a freshman and Armie, 22, is a senior. 
> 
> Many thanks go to Marlonbookcase and Huxplicit for talking through this with me as I wrote it. And my friend Sam who always adds in the commas where they need to go.

October 2005

Boston University

 

Armie was sitting on his computer, pouring over several tabs worth of medieval armor and weaponry when Phasma called.

“Armitage what is going on? I just saw your email full of links to rent armor, and what was this, a broadsword?”

“Thank goodness you called Phasma. I saw a listing to rent a full suit of armor in time for Saturday but it's in Chicago so I’ll need you to go pick it up and then come visit this weekend. I checked MapQuest-- it's only a few blocks from your place. I need to let the rental shop know soon.”

Phasma let out a very long sigh, “I thought you said you needed a costume for the Halloween party with your new little freshman boyfriend. Shouldn’t you be focusing on wearing as little as possible?”

“Ben said that he wanted to do a couples costume and go as knights. He’s a medieval studies major, Phas. He is probably going to go all out on authenticity. He comes from old New England money, I’m sure they have suits of armor everywhere.” Armie’s voice verged on panic.

“Armie, take some deep breaths. Did he actually say that?”

“No, but I need this to be perfect, Phas. I know I said before that it was just a stupid hook-up but I was lying to you.” Armie covered his face with his hand before saying in one breath, “andIthinkIreallylikehim.”

Phasma paused for a moment, “He’s tall, isn’t he?”

Armitage groaned and threw his head back on his chair, “He’s taller than me and he can pick me up with one arm and his hair looks like he has someone following him around touching it up everytime I look away.”

Phasma tisked, “Well, that does sound serious.”

Armitage sat up, “Fantastic. I’ll pay for your gas and of course you can spend the night here. I will make sure to ask the landlady for the street parking spot this weekend. She will be delighted I have a visitor.”

“Oh no no no Armitage. I’m not driving fifteen hours to Boston to help you. But you are in pretty deep.”

Phasma started roaring with laughter as Armitage pulled away the phone from his ear and shut it angrily. It wasn’t nearly as cathartic as slamming down a landline but he took what he could get.

  
\--

Armie clanged noisily as he walked down the street. His armor pinched uncomfortably in places he didn’t want to think about, chafing his skin raw after only a few minutes. He couldn’t sit down without cutting off circulation to some part of his legs, so he was forced to take the T standing the whole way. Despite having opted for his usual black leather boots under the metal greaves, his feet were already beginning to ache. He hefted the broadsword’s scabbard under his arm for the tenth time and tried to avoid hitting anyone. He tried tying it around this waist but the sword had bumped against his thigh every time he stepped. So he settled for holding it. Despite the chilly weather, he could already feel the sweat trickling down the back of his neck, making his undershirt stick uncomfortably to the back of the chestplate. No thanks to that traitor, Phasma, Armie managed to locate a suit of armor to rent from an SCA enthusiast in Cambridge. He only hoped that guy was as devoted to historical accuracy as he said, Armie shuddered to think of being made to look a fool in front of Ben if his helmet visor was from the incorrect period.

Armie fumbled for his MapQuest directions tucked into his gauntlets, fighting the visor of his helmet to make out the street names. Ben had said the party would be in a large warehouse near the port. He could hear the pumping music already, and as he turned bodily for lack of peripheral vision, he could see several other college aged kids in various states of undress walking in the same direction. He wondered how many different colleges were attending, he rarely ventured off of Boston University’s campus these days. He loathed to think of running into one of those engineering snobs from MIT. They always acted as if his engineering programme from BU was somehow substandard.

The warehouse doors were flung open, lights, music and warm air pouring out into the cold Boston street. A line stretched down the block as bouncers checked for ID and the $20 cover charge. Armie struggled to shift the broadsword to his left arm while reaching for his wallet in a hidden pocket on his right.

He approached the bouncer with his ID and the man barely looked at it before pulling out a bright green wristband to indicate he was over 21.

“Where can I put this?” the bouncer asked, trying to determine which heavily armored wrist would be more suitable for the thin paper strip.

Armie’s visor slipped closed again as he tried to look down, “Can you just, sort of stick it on there?”

The bouncer sighed, already done with the shenanigans of college students, and put on the wristband as best he could. “There’s coat check inside if you want to ditch the sword.”

Armie huffed as he walked inside. The broadsword was an integral part of his costume he thought as he secured the scabbard’s leather strap around his waist.

If he thought the party had been loud from down the street, nothing could have prepared him for the inside. The warehouse was packed with college students, the cavernous space filled with smoke effect and lazer lighting. There was a DJ stage constructed on the far end, with platforms for dancers and enormous speakers. A bar stretched along the opposite wall, crammed with sexy witches and shirtless leprechauns waiting for their turn at an overpriced warm beer.

Armie stood around feeling increasingly foolish. This wasn’t what he had anticipated at all. He feared that perhaps Phasma was right and a ‘sexy’ costume would have been the better move. Nothing for it now, Armie assured himself. Ben was here waiting in his matching costume, and once they were together it wouldn’t be so bad.

“Armie? Armie is that you in there?” Ben’s voice called out from behind him like a voice from the heavens. Finally someone reasonable in this sea of hormonal and alcohol drenched bodies. Peripheral vision still blocked, Armie clanged slowly around as he searched for the owner of the voice. When he finally spotted Ben he couldn’t believe his eyes.

Ben was dressed as a knight in only the most loose definition of the word. It was as if a 3 year old had heard someone describe a knight from the other room and then recreated it using only materials they could reach in the supply closet without a step stool. Ben’s entire body was wrapped in aluminum foil and silver duct tape. He had a child-sized knight helmet perched precariously on his head, not even coming down past his forehead. A child-sized plastic chest plate was duct taped onto his shoulders and he had a similarly sized plastic sword and shield in each hand. He wore a bright pink wristband indicating he was under 21 but from the looks of Ben’s loose limbs and goofy smile, it seemed that he and his friends had pre-gamed at their dorm to circumvent the rules.

“Yes, um hello Ben. I was under the impression that we were, um, doing matching knights costumes.” Hux felt so foolish he thought his heart was going to give out. Perhaps the earth could open up and swallow him. Maybe he would suffocate in this helmet and pass out and then get amnesia and forget this entire incident.

“Babe, this is incredible.” Ben closed the distance between them, dropping the plastic sword and shield. He started pulling on Armie’s limbs, lifting them up to inspect the armor, running his hands over the plating.

“The craftsmanship on this is immaculate. Look at this hand hammered cuirass! And the detail of the etching on the pauldrons?” Ben circled Armie as he continued to inspect the armor with childish glee.

“This broad sword is amazing, is that steel forged? It looks like it was made using 16th century methods! I am so hot for you right now, babe,” Ben murmured the last part directly into Armie’s ear. Unfortunately he was robbed the sensation of Ben’s lips on his skin because he was still wearing the clunky helmet, visor having stubbornly fallen shut again.

“I feel rather foolish, Ben.”

Ben pulled back, incredulous, “Why? This is amazing. You are so historically accurate I just want to take you apart like a beautiful, silver cupcake.”

Ben started peppering the helm with kisses and he wrapped his hands around Armie’s waist, walking backwards and pulling them towards the dance floor. He began to sway and grind with the music, the friction of the metal plating ripping Ben’s tin foil off his chest in strips. The plastic chest piece now hung precariously off Ben’s left shoulder. Ben’s beautifully chiseled abs were on full display, with his biceps attempting to break free as well.

Armie stopped, the extra weight of his armor allowing him to win out over Ben’s strength momentarily. He reached up and removed the helmet, taking a moment to enjoy the cool air on his red face and sweat soaked hair.

“Ben, this is ridiculous. How drunk are you right now? I need to get home. This was all so stupid.” Armie tried to turn around but Ben gripped onto him tightly.

“God, you are so gorgeous right now,” Ben said, mouth on Armie’s neck. “Your face is flushed like I just fucked you.”

Armie began to lose his resolve feeling Ben’s lips on his skin. He reached up to grab Ben’s waist with his free hand but his steel gauntlet only tore the tin foil more. Armie pulled back again.

“Ben, are you wearing anything underneath the foil?” Armie scanned Ben’s body now that he was free of the metal prison that was the helmet. The tin foil armor now almost completely gone, Ben’s skin shone through from top to bottom. The only non foil clothing was a pair of small black spandex bike shorts.

Ben grinned when he caught Armie staring, “I tried wearing an undershirt but the foil didn’t look quite right. Besides I wanted you to unwrap me,” Ben stepped back completely and did a slow clumsy spin, shaking out his sweat damp hair in time with the music. It somehow still looked absolutely perfect, “What do you think?”

Armie thought that he needed to get Ben home before he froze. Preferably to Armie’s home. In his bed. Under the covers. To share the warmth.

“You’re going to catch your death in the cold, Ben. How did you get here without a coat?”

“Stewart drove us here in his van. Fuck, can we stop talking and start dancing, I want to show off my hot boyfriend.” Ben began pulling Armie towards the dance floor again, this time facing the crowd as he scanned for his friends. It became more difficult for Armie to navigate in the press of people, trying to dodge one person caused him to smack another with his sword. Armie racked his brain, attempting to figure out just how to get through to Ben that they needed to leave. Now.

“Ben! Stop! Come back here!” Armie shouted over the noise of the music, their proximity to the speakers rattling the armor and making him feel like he was inside a rock tumbler. He tugged on Ben’s hand and pulled him back around. Ben stared at him adoringly, lips spread in a face splitting grin, as if Armie was the only person in the entire room. Armie’s head swam from the attention, or perhaps his lungs were finally being crushed by the weight of the armor.

“We need to leave. Please. I’d like you to uh, inspect my broadsword. More thoroughly.”

Ben’s eyes changed from adoring to hungry, “I think we need to have a duel. My sword against yours,” he draped himself over Armie, groping at him through the plate.

Armie rolled his eyes at the innuendo and began to steer them out of the crowd and towards the exit, “Let's get back to my place so I can uh, get my sword out of the scabbard. It's going to need a thorough polishing.”

Ben leaned against Armie, words slurring as he murmured him to Armie’s ear, “I am an expert sword polisher. I polish the best swords. I love to polish your sword, Armie. I’ll polish it with my mouth.”

As they hit the frigid, October air, Armie cursed himself for not stealing a coat from the coat check for Ben. He attempted to flag down a taxi with the helmet in his hand, but between his armor and Ben’s now half naked form, no one slowed down. He needed to get Ben out of the cold and on their way but Ben was uncooperative and easily distracted.

“Do you think I could give you a blow job while you’re wearing the armor?” Ben asked too loudly as Hux pulled him towards the nearest T station. Armie prayed to whatever gods were listening that they would be allowed on the train despite Ben’s state of undress.

“What if you wore the gauntlets and spanked me?” Ben suggested in what he must have thought was a sultry whisper after they stood on the train to Armie’s apartment, pressed against each other in a car full of other Halloween revelers.

“Those greaves look nice, but they’d look even nicer up over your head. Because I’d be fucking you in them, Armie,” Ben explained not so helpfully as Armie desperately tried to fit his keys in the door to his apartment, willing his landlady to stay asleep.

Finally inside, Armie sat Ben down on the couch, grabbing a blanket off the back and draping it over Ben’s shoulders.

“Wait right here! I’m going to get you something hot to drink. You are probably freezing.” Armie plugged in the kettle and hurried to the bathroom, struggling to unlatch the armor as quickly as possible. His fingers shook with anticipation, finally able to relax and process all of the promises of sexual favors Ben had made on the walk over.

Finally stripped down to his boxers, Armie glanced at himself in the mirror, grimacing at the sight of pinched red skin, chafe marks and newly forming bruises. He heard the kettle beeping and rushed towards the kitchen, calling out to Ben, “I have a lot of places you’re going to have to kiss better--”

Armie cut himself off as he turned the corner. Ben was laid out flat on the couch, one leg still on the floor, the final pieces of aluminum foil and duct tape stubbornly clinging to his ankle. The blanket was cocooned around his upper body. His hair was sprayed out on the arm of the sofa, still looking impossibly gorgeous and shiny. His mouth was open in a snore and his face peacefully asleep.

Armie sighed as he prepared a cup of tea for himself, grabbing the comforter off of his bed and covering the rest of Ben’s body while it steeped. Satisfied, he sat on the couch at Ben’s feet, mug in hand, turning to lean his back against the arm of the sofa and tangle their legs together under the blanket. Ben’s feet were freezing against Armie’s armor cooked thighs. He sighed as he positioned himself comfortably, staring at the gorgeous creature in front of him and sipping his tea. Armie hoped Ben wouldn’t sleep too late, he didn’t need to return the armor until Sunday afternoon and he had plans.


End file.
